


Waiting for Tomorrow

by Kasasagi



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, Male Slash, PWP, Romance, Rough Sex, of sorts, suprisingly for me not an AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 05:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17574803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasasagi/pseuds/Kasasagi
Summary: God and his disciple, and their last night together.





	Waiting for Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> So I looke at the date and saw it was January 28, an important date in the Death Note world, and remembered I never reposted this fic here. This is my #10YearChallenge - I wrote this in January 10 2009. It has some issues, but I still kind of like it.

_Every Jesus has his Gethsemane. But Jesus himself was abandoned by his disciples who fell asleep when he needed them, and this disciple of his was still there by his side, waking, attentively waiting for his orders. Whatever those might be._

The calendar read January 27. The world outside was dark and cold, this winter being one of the coldest in the last decade, and fine white snow glittered in the pools of street light, before it disappeared.

The lights in the room were all off except for the dim one hanging just above the dark brown sofa that was just enough to make the faces of the two men beneath it visible. 

“I used to want to have a sledge.”

Raito’s expression remained unchanged.

“And?”

“But my mother was always telling me that we don’t get enough of snow in our area, only in the mountains.”

Raito didn’t say anything to that and Mikami didn’t volunteer to continue; Raito looked out the window, silently watching the falling snow. There was beauty in that sight, that was undeniable, as well as in the sight of white winter scenery.

But if it lasted for long, it grew lethal. Certainly not here, but he recalled the documentary he once saw concerning the northern countries. After long weeks without sunrays, people would go out and find some hidden place among the omnipresent masses of whiteness and simply stay there, freezing to death.

People would seek death out of the sheer despair caused by the primal phenomenon of coldness represented by snow.  

One after one the snowflakes dissolved in the dark. Crime, Raito thought, as desirable it was to put an end to it as it was, was just another of these phenomena, which were numerous.   

Earthquakes. Floods. Starvation. Cancer. The list appeared to be endless.  

There were thousands of people suffering every passing minute, people who didn’t have the lightest connection with crime and consequently with Kira, and even if he suddenly called this world The New and Better One, there wasn’t any solution at hand, much less such that could be accomplished with a pen and a certain notebook.   

Of course that deep down, he had been always aware of that. But one thing he was exceedingly good at - and that more than anything else was what had gotten him so far – was mastering his own mind. Pushing all doubts aside, he would concentrate on his immediate goals. But those he had already achieved and now there was nothing lying before him but his ultimate and glorious victory.

_But what comes after that?_

Mikami, who had been regarding Raito with increasing worry, suddenly left his seat and kneeled before him.

“Tomorrow, milord,” the prosecutor said in a reassuring voice, “Tomorrow you will show them your judgment and your reign shall begin.”    

Raito looked at the kneeling figure that looked back at him with brownish green eyes shining in a pale face, solemnly and earnestly.  

A strange fatigue came over him. It was like a long-distance race where a runner suddenly uses up all his energy, his legs feel the strain of every mile and he cannot see the finish line, because his vision has gone blurry.

That was how he felt now. The only thing that shone through the haze were those eyes, brownish green, bright and utterly insane.

“Why must you always be so… mad?” He said involuntarily. He surprised himself by voicing that aloud, true, but it wasn’t like he regretted it immediately afterwards or anything. Why, it wasn’t of any importance. Moreover, his ever so sharp mind instantly offered him Mikami’s reaction.

Those eyes would widen even a little more in confusion. Then a voice would come: _God? What_ ’s _the meaning of this? Have I disobeyed your orders? If so, issue new ones and let me amend my mistake._ Or something like that. Insane babbling in biblical legalese.  

His ever so sharp mind was wrong, for this once.   

Brownish green eyes grew suspiciously glazy and then were promptly shut up. Without warning, Mikami pressed his face onto Raito’s knees, embracing his legs with a force that almost made the younger man gasp.

There was no voice.

Outside in the darkness snow was still falling, covering the old world.

Raito felt something wet soaking the fabric on his knee. The arms holding his legs started to tremble.

 _You are pathetic, Mikami. Get a grip of yourself, we have a long day ahead of us. Maybe you should return to your hotel after all, so we both can get some rest,_ Raito’s sharp, practical mind offered him at once.

His hand rose up on its own accord and his fingers entered the mass of dark hair, while his eyes trailed outside where all was black and white, unseeing. He kept on touching the other man’s hair in a soothing way, caressing him as tenderly as a mother would her child.

When the silent sobs gradually ceased, he gently took Mikami’s chin and forced him to raise his head. His cold fingers were tracing the other’s cheeks, which felt hot and little bit rough under his touch, possibly the remainder of the drying tears.  

The prosecutor’s eyes were shut again and his face was distorted in an expression of the shame of being seen so weak and ridiculous.

“Open your eyes, Teru,” Raito ordered.

The brownish green eyes flickered open.      

There was no madness in them. Only pain.

Raito was suddenly overwhelmed by the other’s humanity, as he once was by L’s, but that time he had overcome it, because that man was his enemy who wanted to destroy his dream.

Takada had been human and now she wasn’t there because she got herself killed, and Misa was human by every particle of her being, so much that it had become a persistent annoyance he was constantly struggling to keep at bay. 

But this man here was his tool, an echo of his own words, barely more than a function. So why, why was he watching him with those eyes?

 

Raito slid on the floor, cradling Mikami’s face with his hands. He was slowly inclining towards the figure that was growing rigid, and it felt like the madness he had seen moved itself into his own being.    

“Don’t do that to me. Please,” Mikami asked quietly.

Raito ignored that pleading voice, closing the distance between them until their noses touched.

When Raito closed his eyes, it was as though all the darkness of that night was sucked under his eyelids, completely depriving him of all his sensations except of touch, the touch of hot, dry and slightly shaking lips under his own.  

He deepened their kiss, slipping his arms behind the other’s back and Teru Mikami grew pliant in his hands, not saying anything more, silently letting Raito touch him as he pleased, as though he gave himself as an offering to his god.

The sound of Mikami’s beating heart roared in his ears – or was it his own, Raito mused as he pressed him to the ground. 

When Raito removed his own shirt and started to unbutton the red one belonging to the other man, he felt a little pang of guilt somewhere in the back of his head. Here he was again, never giving anything back, just taking what was offered or even that what was not.  

But at that exact moment a voice came, breathless and darkened with desire:

“Use me, my Lord. Use my body to relieve yourself.”

That voice together with the sight of Mikami half naked on the floor squirming under his touch was too much for Raito. His excitement mounted up to point he couldn’t contain himself. He hastily removed the remaining garments and positioned himself between the other man’s legs. 

He covered the pale body lying beneath him with hungry kisses. His hand encircled the base of Mikami’s throbbing member and began to stroke him.

The lustful moans that came as a response sent him over the edge sooner that he expected.

 _Screw the foreplay._  

He knew he should use something lest it would be painful for the other man, but there wasn’t anything at hand and he just couldn’t stop, not now. So in the end he just consented to use his saliva before he slid two fingers into Mikami’s opening.

The prosecutor let out a sharp hiss of pain that almost made Raito stop, but the prosecutor soon caught himself, whispering:

“Don’t hold back. Use me as you please.”

That did it again and Raito started to move his fingers in and out, first slowly, then with an increasing speed, his other hand working on Mikami’s member.   

When he suddenly removed his fingers Mikami groaned in disappointment, but that didn’t last long because Raito slammed into him with no restraint.

Teru arched his back with a gasp as he struggled to accommodate Raito’s erection. Raito gently kissed him on the mouth, once again stopping still.

“You okay?”

Teru nodded, gazing at Raito with his eyelids half-dropped.  

“Use me,” he repeated.

“As you wish,” Raito replied with a crooked smile, and started to move.

Mikami was soon thrusting back in earnest, and Raito was now truly using him, seeing in him not only Teru Mikami, but all the people of this world, his current and future worshippers and he was giving it to them all at once, they were all on their knees begging for it, because that was what this world wanted, to be fucked senseless by someone who had the power to do it, and he was the one, fuck, no, he was The One.

“God,” Mikami’s voice was barely more than a whimper, and everything turned black, black with tiny snowflakes glittering under his eyelids, and people in northern countries went out seeking death in the snow, and other people were dying on the highways and in the hospitals and yet other people were dying because the two of them had written down their names, but the waves of blackness washed it away until there was nothing left, just the sound of their mixed breathing.    

 

…

The calendar was still announcing to the world that it was January 27 and the clock on the table read 11:46 PM, but those were just numbers that had somehow lost all their significance.

The snow had stopped falling; it was just dark now.     

Teru rested his head against Raito’s chest, and Raito was idly playing with his hair.

“Talk about something,” he commanded, “Not about… “ _Kira. Our New World. Death. …_ ” tomorrow. Just something. I know, “ Raito suddenly remembered, “about the sledge. You haven’t finished that. Did you get it in the end?”

Teru mumbled something incomprehensible into Raito’s chest, obviously exhausted.

“Mmmh?” Raito persisted, not ready to go to sleep yet.  

The head of dark hair raised itself with enormous effort, and Raito brushed aside the strands of sweated black hair so that he could see the other’s eyes.

“Yes, I did,” Teru said in a tired voice, “but it was too late. When I got up the hill and saw all those younger children, I felt so ridiculous that I even didn’t want to do it. But as my mother was with me and I didn’t want to disappoint her, I gave it a try. But…” his voice trailed off for a while, “it wasn’t that great as I had imagined. The ride was too slow and not really exciting, and the snow surface wasn’t as perfectly smooth as I had thought, there were even stones that left traces on my sledge. So… well, I was quite disappointed, after having yearned to do that for so long.”

“It wasn’t worth waiting for,” Raito stated.

“No,” Teru agreed softly, “it wasn’t.”

He laid his head back on Raito’s chest and closed his eyes.

“But that is the way of this world. And of all the future ones,” he added almost inaudibly before he fell asleep.

 _I’m sorry that I told you that you were mad,_ Raito thought, as he listened to the steady rhythm of his lover’s breathing, _I was very wrong._

He remembered the pained look he had seen before and he briefly thought that it would be nice if in the new world, those eyes would be never sad again.

But somehow, was his last thought before he too drifted off to sleep, somehow it didn’t seem likely.

 


End file.
